The G Shot

Beverly HillsThere is a growing segment of the plastic surgery industry focused entirely on women's nether regions that includes procedures from the superficial (like labia re-sculpting) to the "functional." The most popular in the latter category is called vaginal rejuvenation: basically, a nip and tuck to give you a tighter cunt. Just as most birth control is designed to alter or confuse the female body and its cycles, the majority of new technologies purported to enhance sex seem to benefit men and cut women open in a disturbing display of misogyny.

While men can pop a blue pill to better their bedtime romps, women must opt for local or general anesthesia, and even then, it's not clear how going under the knife improves their sexual function and satisfaction. Vaginal rejuvenation positions vaginal intercourse as the be-all and end-all of heterosexual sex. Yes, this face-lift for the pussy may make for a snugger fit, and more friction may feel good, but the procedure focuses entirely on the vagina, which, while a useful part of our anatomy, is not where the party is happening for most chicks. How about using all that cash to send hubby to Clit Camp to learn his way around our most sensitive and complex sexual organ? By the way, no such place exists. Go figure.

I recently read about yet another new procedure that's supposed to greatly improve women's sexual pleasure: G-spot amplification. It's a collagen injection for the G-spot, to make it bigger. Theoretically, the more prominent the spot is, the easier it is to find and stimulate. I had to see for myself what the so-called "G-shot" (thegshot.com and drmatlock.com) was all about, and since I happened to be in the plastic surgery capital, I called the Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation Institute to set up a consultation. The woman who answered the phone explained that the institute's director, Dr. David Matlock, is not only the inventor of the shot but the only doctor in the country who performs it (on between 50 and 75 women so far, according to his assistant). He's a very busy man, but after I mentioned my interest in the G-shot, he managed to "squeeze me in" that afternoon.

After filling out standard paperwork, I spied a slick purple pamphlet in the waiting room with photos of two beaming women, one alone, the other with a man. It read G-Spot AmplificationThis Could Enhance Your Sex Life Forever. Inside there were "before" and "after" diagrams, a history of the G-spot, and testimonials in which one patient said, "[The shot] increased my sexual gratification and I have more intense orgasms," and another raved, "My husband loves this new injection. Now he makes me reach a climax that I've never reached before."

After a two-hour wait, I was escorted to Dr. Matlock's office, where he appeared wearing blue scrubs ("This is my surgery day. I usually don't see patients"). He sat down in his expensive leather chair, glanced at the papers I'd filled out, then looked up and said, "Where is your sexual-activity form?" I replied, "I filled out everything she gave me. There was no sexual-activity form." He seemed irked, considered getting the form, then asked, "Well, the most important thing is: Do you have any sexual dysfunction?" I wanted to respond slyly, "Don't we all?" But I knew what he meant and the answer was no. He asked about my interest in the G-shot, and I gave my rehearsed-to-sound-spontaneous answer, the one I carefully formulated to appear smart but not too knowledgeable, lest I blow my cover as an ordinary person and reveal myself to be a sex columnist. "I know where my G-spot is," I said. "I have even taken a sex-ed class on the G-spot. When my girlfriends talk about their G-spots, the feelings they describe sound amazing, and that's just not my experience of that kind of stimulation. So when I heard about this, I was very curious."

He then launched into a long explanation-slash-anatomy-lesson-cum-sales-pitch, which, strangely, began with him telling me that he would be interviewed about the G-shot for two TV programs in a few days. He used a fair amount of medical jargon and told me about the "clinical trials" he's conducted. He definitely knows his way around the G-spot; he even demonstrated the famed two-finger "come here" technique as he explained how to find and stimulate it. He told me it's a painless ("I've never had any complaints") 15-minute procedure which lasts for up to four months. So much for forever.

If you find that you or your partner cannot locate your G-spot, well, this will puff it up and make it hard to miss (imagine the locker room banter: "Dude, her G-spot was so big . . . "). The way I envision it, anything slipping inside is bound to run into it; it could be stimulated even without intention. But will it also become more sensitive? "Let me tell you what my patients tell me," Matlock said, cleverly dodging the question. "Many say that after the shot, they are in a constant state of arousal. I've got one who says that when she's driving, and she hits a bump, she has an orgasm." That didn't make any sense, knowing what I know about the G-spot, which is best stimulated with firm pressure. If there was nothing inside her rubbing the spot, what made for spontaneous climax?

"Our mission is to empower women with knowledge, choices, and alternatives," reads a quote on the back of the brochure, attributed to Dr. Matlock. OK, so he's got the feminist rhetoric down pat. I want women to have all that too, but I don't want them to feel inadequate or uncool if G-spot stimulation is elusive or simply not their cup of tea. We have enough pressure to be sexually hip. Most of us already feel insecure about our bodies and our sexuality. With a price tag of $1,850 and the nagging image of a needle in my bundle of nerve endings, I did not feel bold or rich enough to get stuck in the name of investigative journalism. But I'm curious: How much would you pay for hands-on teaching at Clit Camp?